


My Name Is My Credit Card.

by kotabear24



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/M, Popular Louis, School Uniforms, Sexual Tension, girl louis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-15
Updated: 2014-06-15
Packaged: 2018-02-04 17:57:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1787941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kotabear24/pseuds/kotabear24
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Featuring Louis as the hot senior girl in school who walks in slow motion to the beat of sexy music.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Name Is My Credit Card.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from 'Popular' by The Veronicas. Like, seriously. Listen to this and that's her.

Louis was the first girl Harry’d ever known who made Harry question if _Mean Girls_ was an actual reality.

She – Louis – was Rodney High’s royalty, the golden girl, a senior to Harry’s lowly sophomore status. She wore her pleated school uniform skirt way too short and ordered her blouses a size too small so that she had to unbutton it a few buttons too low, showing her cleavage – hell, half her breasts – and smirking whenever she caught boys staring. Whenever the lower-classmen ogled her too much, she simply grabbed Zayn – her best friend, and one of most mysteriously popular (as in, nobody knew why he was popular; he never spoke to anyone but Louis and a junior jock named Liam) boys in the school – and pulled his head so that his face pressed between her boobs for a moment. Every time she did it, Zayn would glare at her until she pointed to the boy(s) who sparked the action, and they would both laugh at the reactions they got.

Some people said she was a slut, and some said that Zayn was her boyfriend, but once on a bathroom break Harry had seen Zayn pressed against a locker by Liam, the two intertwined and making out furiously. Also, freshman year, Harry had seen Louis with her hand in her hair as a (now graduated; then-senior) boy named Nick stuck his hand down her panties in the stairwell. A few months later in the same stairwell, after an attention-grabbing break-up scene between Louis and Nick, Harry saw a senior girl named Perrie Edwards on her knees, ducked up under Louis’ skirt. (Harry spent a lot of time trying not to be a pervert.)

Louis played soccer – she was the best on the team, really; Harry had watched girls’ soccer since Gemma joined when she’d been in high school. Louis had joined her freshman year, which had been Gemma’s junior year, and as soon as Harry had seen the beautiful girl two years older than him, he’d forgotten all about supporting his sister (and best friend) and stared, watching Louis.

Once Harry admitted to liking her, a few days before his first day as a high schooler, Gemma had gone serious, sitting on her blue bean-bag chair in Harry’s room while Harry perched on his orange one. “You’ll want to stay away from that girl, Harry,” Gemma said solemnly. “I know she’s gorgeous, but she’ll hurt you. She’s – I’ve heard her talking in the locker room…She’s kind of – she’s not someone I want you to be around, okay? You’re too young for a girl like her.”

Harry had been offended on Louis’ behalf, but he reasoned that Gemma knew Louis better than he did, obviously, after being on the same team as her for two years, so he just nodded a little sadly and tried to get over his young, fourteen-year-old crush.

In the year and a half since, though, Harry’d forgotten Gemma’s advice, and Niall, Harry’s best friend, constantly made fun of him for it (even though he thought she was gorgeous, too).

“You’re drooling,” Niall said, snapping Harry out of his thoughts as he tried to stealthily stare at Louis, walking toward them across the quad. Of course, she wasn’t actually walking _to them_ ; they were just close to the soccer field and after C block lunch came athletics for anyone who was on a team.

Harry reached up to wipe his mouth and glared at Niall, who started cackling loudly, when his hand came away completely dry. “You’re such an asshole,” he mumbled, but he couldn’t help but smile in the face of Niall’s ridiculous laugh.

“You’ve got it so bad, man, just to go talk to her.”

“Are you kidding me?” Harry asked, eyes wide. “You’ve seen what she does to lower-classmen!”

Niall rolled his eyes. “That’s what I’m saying: go hit on her, get rejected, be pissy and moan about how girls always want nice guys but don’t really, and get over it!”

“I don’t think that’s what an actual nice guy would do,” Harry interjected with a frown, but he shut up when Louis walked past them, her skirt fluttering in the breeze and showing a heavenly amount of toned, beautiful leg. Harry shouldn’t stare; it was disrespectful.

“Damn, baby,” Niall said, and Harry gaped at him. Louis slowed and turned her head over her shoulder. “I’d hit that ass,” Niall continued, and Harry swatted at his shoulder.

“What the hell?” Harry hissed at him, but Louis only laughed.

“Thanks, babe, but you’re, what – sixteen?” She asked, looking at the green tie at Niall’s neck, signifying their sophomore year status. “You’d probably fuck a watermelon if someone warmed it up for you.”

“Wouldn’t even have to warm it up for him,” Harry mumbled, and Niall laughed good-naturedly and shoved Harry, sending him stumbling towards Louis. Devious bastard.

Louis regarded him with a tiny smile playing on her lips before she flicked her bangs out of her eyes, her short, bob-y haircut shiny-looking and soft. “That was funny,” she said with diluted amusement reflecting in her eyes. “You’re funny. What’s your name?”

Harry gaped for a second, and then looked around to Niall, like, _Is she asking me?_ , and when Niall gave Harry a not-so-subtle thumbs-up, Harry turned back around to face her, and saw she was grinning full-on now. “I – Harry. Styles. My name’s Harry Styles,” he babbled.

“Styles? Oh, that’s right, you’re Gemma’s little brother, aren’t you?” She asked, and Harry nodded, flushing a little on the back of his neck. “I remember seeing you at all the games. You were such an awkward kid.” Harry blushed a little higher, feeling rejection swooping into his stomach even though he hadn’t asked her out, or anything. Louis tilted her head and cocked her hip, brushing her bangs away and straightening them with delicate fingers. “Who’d’ve thought you’d turn out to be so cute?”

Harry’s head snapped up to look at her, confusion and hope churning together to make one awkwardly-overwhelming emotion to settle in his stomach. Just then, the bell rang, and Louis glanced around to see her teammates all making their way to the field without her. “I have to go,” she said, taking a step back. “It was nice meeting you…and your friend, I guess.” Without waiting for Harry to say goodbye (or profess his undying love), she turned and flounced away, hips swaying and out-of-code heels not even sinking into the grass, like most girls who wore them had trouble with.

 

\---

 

Louis hadn’t sought Harry out since, and Harry didn’t think her ‘it was nice meeting you’ was exactly an open invitation to pursue her, despite Niall’s insistence that it had been. Nevertheless, Harry inevitably skipped History – this year was just as boring as the last – and was walking around school when he saw Louis in B-Hallway.

She was muttering under her breath as she rifled through her locker, juggling books and her purse and her backpack, which looked so full it might burst. Harry stood, watching her, unable to decide if he should offer to help her or not, when she fumbled a textbook and _everything_ went flying, falling to the floor and all over the hallway. Louis didn’t swear; she simply dropped her hands to her sides, tilted her head back to look at the ceiling, and sighed for a second before she squatted down precariously-balanced in her high heels, and started picking her things up.

“Here –” Harry said, rushing forward before his mind caught up with him. “Let me help.”

Louis was smiling gratefully as she looked up to thank him, and her face faltered when she realized it was Harry. For a second, Harry was sure she’d send him away, but she blinked and the face was gone, morphed back into a smile again. “Thanks,” she said, taking the books Harry’d gathered up quickly and stacking them. “Harry, right?” She asked, and Harry nodded. “Well, Harry…I really appreciate it.”

“It’s no problem,” Harry said shrugging as he reached for her Tervis tumbler, which had fallen and somehow not spilled. “I mean, I was here, so. It’s only, like, polite. Like, I would’ve done it for anyone.”

Louis laughed at Harry’s babbling, picking up her books and sorting through them as she stood, looking over at Harry as she pushed some into her locker. “Oh, so it’s not just that I’m special?” She asked, a teasing grin on her face as Harry blushed.

“No,” Harry lied, skin darkening. “I mean, you’re pretty, but, you know. You’re just a person, like any of us. It’s not like you’re a goddess among humans, or whatever.” Shoot him now.

But Louis was only smiling, and bit her lip for a moment. “Except on the soccer field,” she corrected, looking at Harry like she was daring him to challenge her soccer skills.

“No, you’re definitely not human on the soccer field,” Harry agreed with her. Was he seriously having a conversation with the girl he’d had a crush on for _years_? Apparently so, because Louis ducked her head in a way that seemed fake and practiced to Harry, like someone had told Louis she wasn’t allowed to be prideful about her talent and she constantly battled between remembering that lesson and being proud, anyway.

“Yeah, well. Coach’ll kill me if I miss Calc again, so I better…” She trailed off, tipping her head to back and to the side, towards the math hall, and Harry nodded, taking a step back like he needed to separate himself from her just to be able to end the conversation. “Thanks again,” she blurted suddenly.

“You’re welcome,” Harry said with a smile. “It really isn’t a big deal.”

Louis smiled and said a soft _bye_ , shut her locker, and turned around, glancing over her shoulder as Harry watched her go. Eventually, Harry turned around, but he hadn’t even made it to room 242 when he heard the clacking of heels against the linoleum, rapidly coming towards him, and he heard his name being whisper-called, echoing weirdly.

He turned around and saw Louis hurrying towards him, and she stopped, huffing a bit and adjusting her backpack’s straps as she stood before him, and the silenced nearly killed Harry.

Just when he thought she wasn’t going to say anything, Louis blurted out, “How long was it gonna be before you mentioned that you’d seen me having sex twice in school?"

Harry’s eyes widened and his mouth fell open before he clicked it shut again, swallowing hard. “I – it wasn’t my business,” he said, taking a step back as his skin burned red at being caught out. “I probably wouldn’t ever have said anything. It’s not like we really talk…ever.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell anyone?” She asked, getting closer to Harry, just barely taller than him in her heels.

Harry swallowed again. “It – why would I?” He asked. “It’s not my business what you do. You seemed pretty…uhm, like you were enjoying it, so. Why would I feel the need to?”

Louis’ curiosity waned as she stared at Harry, thinking through what he just said, and suddenly, Harry was pushed against the lockers, and Louis was leaning in close – close enough that Harry could feel every breath from her lips, close to his own. “Did you like watching it?” She asked, smiling – no, _smirking_ – at him.

“I – yes, shit, I’m so sorry; I’m a perv-”

“No, shut up, don’t be sorry,” Louis interrupted, and pressed her cheek to his, whispering in his ear. “I like to be watched.” Harry’s breath left him in a _whoosh_ , and he was about a half a second from being rock hard in his pants if she didn’t back up. “I like people knowing I can be sexy,” she added, and this time, Harry snorted, and she pulled back with her eyebrows raised.

“Everyone already knows you are; that was never in question,” he said, and Louis bit her lip before she leaned in and kissed him chastely. _Holy shit_ , Harry thought as he pressed his lips back against hers, and then he wanted to bash his head against the lockers when Louis pulled away and started laughing _because he had said that out loud_.

“Listen,” she said, covering her mouth with her hand as she giggled for a second, turning her from sex goddess to a cute little fairy, or something. “Listen, I’m going to this…party. Thing. This Friday, at Liam Payne’s house. Do you know Liam Payne?”

“I know _of_ him,” Harry said with an embarrassed grimace. He wasn’t a loser, or anything, but he tended to stick with kids his own age, and Liam was the grade above. They’d had a class together last semester, and they’d gotten along when they did speak, but it wasn’t as if they were friends, or anything.

“Right,” Louis said, dismissing it completely. “Well, he’s throwing a party at his house this Friday. You should come; I’ll be there. You can bring that blonde friend of yours, if you want. Just be there. You seem…sweet.”

“I am,” Harry said, and Louis laughed, trailing a French-tipped nail down Harry’s cheek, jawline, and down his neck.

“Good,” she said, and leaned in close again. “I wanna see how much I can ruin you.” She kissed him again, just a press of lip against lip, and turned away without a backward glance, this time.

She was going to kill him.

 

\---

 

Friday morning happened, and Harry had overslept, which gave him no time to shower, so he threw on a green beanie over his messy hair and felt like a slob for his generally unappealing appearance when he walked into the cafeteria for breakfast. He was halfway to his regular table, already making eye contact with Niall, when he was intercepted and steered to a new table.

He looked at the hand gripping his arm and his sight followed the sleeve of who turned out to be Zayn Malik, not even looking down at him and was silently leading him. “Uhm, hi,” Harry tried, and Zayn looked over at him, the same height as Harry.

“Hi,” he said in a bored voice. “Sit with us today.”

“Can my friend come, too?” Harry asked, looking over at Niall, who was staring at him already, face surprised.

“He’s not irritating, is he?” Zayn asked, just as Liam came over with his own tray loaded down with as much sausage as the cafeteria lady probably let him get away with.

“Don’t be rude, Zayn,” he interjected before Harry could even answer, smiling over at Harry. “He’s not a morning person. Of course, your friend can come over. Louis should be here any minute.”

“About that,” Zayn said while Harry turned and waved to Niall, jerking his head in an invitation. “I know how to snap your neck and make it look like an accident.”

Harry turned back around to Zayn, eyes a little wide. “That’s, uhm, handy? How is that related to Louis being here any second?”

Zayn looked at Harry for a moment silently, and then snorted, shaking his head. “I’m just saying, don’t be a dick to her.”

“Oh,” Harry said, and then Zayn’s neck-snapping comment made more sense. “ _Oh_. Uhm, yeah, well – she just invited me to Liam’s party; I don’t really think there’d be a reason for me to be a dick.”

Zayn nodded and let it drop, and by the time Louis showed up, Niall had already sat on Harry’s left and nodded amicably in greeting, and they were having an actual, albeit awkward and slightly stilted, conversation.

“Hi, there,” Louis said slowly as she slid onto the bench next to Harry, automatically stealing a sausage corndog.

“Hey,” Harry both greeted and protested the theft, though it died in his throat when Louis wrapped her lips around it and pushed it nearly halfway into her mouth, fluttering her eyelashes at him for a brief second. “Hi,” Harry said without thinking about it, and Louis broke the moment, crossing her eyes and biting off a huge chunk of the corndog in a way that made Harry’s dick ache in sympathy for the poor thing. Niall and Zayn just laughed.

“You’re coming to the party tonight, right?” She asked with her mouth full of food, and Harry cringed even as he laughed at how distorted her voice was.

“Uh, yeah, I’ll be there,” he said, snorting when Niall choked on his egg from laughing with his mouth full of food.

Louis swallowed tightly and chugged her milk before she tried to speak again. “Good,” she said eventually. “Here, give me your phone.” She put her number in Harry’s phone (he tried not to hyperventilate) and called herself, so she’d have his number, and gave the phone back. “Text me your address; I’ll pick you up. You too,” she said, extending her neck to see past Harry.

“Niall,” Niall volunteered, and Louis smiled.

“Well, I’ll pick you up at ten, so be ready. I’m not patient; I probably won’t wait.” With that, she stood, and so did Zayn, who tapped Liam’s cheek before he left the junior sitting across from Harry and Niall. Neither Louis nor Zayn looked back, though the three boys at the table watched them leave.

“Damn, they’re so hot,” Niall said, shaking his head, and Harry had to agree.

 

\---

 

“Are you sure you can’t come?” Harry whined into the phone, pulling on his one pair of (rarely-worn) tight jeans and hoping they weren’t stupid. He didn’t want to make Louis regret inviting him.

“Man, my mom is _literally_ throwing up everywhere,” Niall’s voice sounded through the phone, and Harry groaned because Niall’s dad and brother were on a hunting trip.

“Shit,” he said quietly. “Well, I hope Maura feels better. Tell her I’ll come visit…when she’s not projectile vomiting everywhere.”

Niall laughed. “I’ll be sure to tell her that. Exact words and everything. Have fun with Louis tonight; I hope you get some.”

Harry’s carefree mood vanished abruptly. “Do you think she’ll want to do it?” He asked. “Holy shit. Ni, should I bring a condom tonight?”

“Harry, you should _always_ bring a fucking condom to a party, have you lost your mind?” Niall asked. “You seriously haven’t been bringing condoms to the parties we’ve been going to?”

“Well it’s not like I was going to those parties with _Louis Tomlinson_ , Ni!” Harry defended himself, feeling more frantic as each moment passed.

“Calm down, it’s gonna be fine,” Niall soothed, and just then, Harry’s phone buzzed against his cheek.

When he checked it, he swore, because it was a text from Louis, telling him to hurry up. “Shit, she’s here. Ni, what do I do?”

“Get a condom, put it in your pocket, and go have a nice time. If you don’t need it, that’s fine; if you do, you’ll be glad.”

Harry took a deep breath as his phone went off again. “You’re right. Thanks. But listen, I have to go, bye!”

“Bye, have a good night!”

Harry hurried out the door and got into the passenger side, hoping he looked decent. All hope he had died when he saw how incredible Louis looked. “You – wow, you look incredible,” he said, and she did.

Her skirt was ridiculously short, tight and glittery-black, and her top was a gray lacy-thing that showed her bra underneath, which also meant Harry could look and see half her boobs, which were…Harry swallowed. He didn’t want to be a pervert. As he shifted in the seat, his feet kicked against platform-y heels with black lace over the top of them, and he mumbled an apology for kicking them as he glanced over at Louis’ feet. She was driving barefoot.

“Thanks,” she said. “You look cool, too. Never seen you in tight pants before.” She whistled to make a point, and Harry bit his lip as he buckled up and she accelerated. Harry’s hands flew out to grip the seat in fear; she was a _terrible_ driver. When Harry turned to tell her so, the words died in his throat, because she looked so happy behind the wheel.

She must have noticed his creeper staring, because she laughed awkwardly and _took her eyes off the road_ to look at Harry. “What?” She asked.

“Look at the road!” Harry said, pointing wildly, and Louis swerved lightly when she realized she was steering off to the side.

“Do I have something on my face?” She asked, touching her cheek quizzically.

“No, just your face,” Harry said stupidly. “I mean – you’re pretty. Hot. You’re, uh, you know – you’re nice to look at. I mean, visually, uhm, not-appalling, is what I’m trying to say. Fuck. I swear, I usually am not so stupid around girls,” Harry said, humiliated as Louis laughed her ass off behind the wheel, loud and unabashed of sounding like a cat was lodged in her throat and trying to claw its way out.

“Visually not-appalling,” she hooted. “That’s the best compliment I’ve ever heard, thank you!”

Harry blushed, but Louis only laughed harder at him. “Sorry,” he mumbled after she calmed down, and started when Louis put her hand _a tad_ high on his leg, her fake nails wrapping around the curve of his inner thigh.

“Don’t be,” she said. She glanced between Harry and the road and smiled. “Are you sure you want to go to the party?”

Harry looked at her, watching her drive with one hand on the wheel and one hand terrifyingly (excitingly) close to his dick. “You invited me, remember?” He asked instead of answering, and judging by the smile on her face, Louis noticed.

“Yeah, but I wanna ruin you,” she said, and pulled over, off the shoulder of the road.

Harry watched, eyes wide, as she turned the car off and unbuckled her seatbelt, climbing over the console to straddle his lap. “Do you wanna eat my pussy?” She breathed, eyes so close to his they were going almost crossed. Harry nodded frantically, not believing his luck. He nearly choked on his own spit when Louis grabbed his hand and guided it under her skirt, pressing his fingers to where there was _no underwear_ and she was already getting wet. “Can’t go to a party all messy, anyways,” she said, and bit her lip when Harry ran his fingertips gently up and down her skin, not dipping in and not daring to leave her alone, and she kissed him.

“You’re never going to forget this night,” she said into his mouth, and Harry very seriously doubted he ever would.


End file.
